Uncle Geebee has a great big surprise for you kiddies this morning. He is going to tell you all about Peter Pan--the boy who wouldn't grow up. Well, kiddies, Peter was sent to college; and that was just ideal. For of course, at college one doesn't work; one just pretends to be sophisticated; one doesn't grow up,--one becomes what some call indifferent. This was wonderful for Peter, for he didn't want ever to be a man.

Peter spent his first year trying to be manager of all the teams there were, but in short order he left each competition. He found that you worked so hard to become a manager that there was no time left to do nothing in. And if you were going to meet all the best people, which was Peter's heart's desire, you had to spend most of your time doing nothing for that was what they did.

But still Peter seethed with activity. He strained and strained trying to think of something to do in which you got a long way but didn't have to give up anything to get there. Finally he hit upon it,--he would become a social lion and an activities man. That was the combination. You spent your days with the best men, and in the evening you strutted your wares before the pride of the city's society.

There it was. The elixir, the aquavitae, the Mennen's Food; and upon it he would thrive. Never was there such an opportunity as the city presented for dances and cultivating the society of nice, and what Peter found intelligent girls. From then on he rose late, read all the newspapers and current magazines to be in the swim of conversation, and trained himself for the campaign. Here was the thing, that was lasting; if you made scores of friends, they would be with you all your life and you would have obtained something durable from college.

The activities were great sport, kiddies. Peter found that you did nothing, but that the matters that needed attention were somehow attended to. And all the time there was the glory of being important. Countless little dangles hung from his watch chain and his name was on countless lips as well as often seen in the columns of the college paper. The dances were even better, for there he and his friends met all the nice girls. To Peter their conversation scintillated; it was ever so much more clever than his own. These girls really were clever, that was the wonderful thing about them; they always had something to say, and then, they laughed so easily. Peter began to think he too was quite a light. This backed up his pet theories; now he was getting somewhere.

He would come in late and strewing his clothes all over the room would thus make it impossible for his roommates to overlook the fact that he had been to a party. When he arose at noon he would regale them with wondrous tales of his experiences. But he never could understand his roommates,--that was the one smirch on his college life.

Thus for four years Peter lived. He came to know everyone of importance, and as an usher at dances found his name in the papers more often than that of the football captain. This was partly due to the fact that he looked harder for his name. But this, kiddies, is not a tale with a moral. Peter did graduate; and at Commencement as he looked about him and saw the worn and haggard expressions of those men who had worked hard, or who were in posts of importance he laughed; imagine having done all that work when you could have been enjoying life! No wonder people grew old. And after all what one went to college for was to enjoy life, to keep young.

Be sure to go to college, kiddies, and develop yourselves the way I have shown that Peter did. That is the true secret of success. You will come away sure that you are clever and important. Ponder over it my wee ones; don't waste the opportunity. Never again will you have one to equal it. J. H. S.